oestre

Now would be the time for Gods to step forth
from inhabited things..
and embrace every wall
In my house.

-Rainer Marie Rilke

poetry for a dark moon and goodbye

atropos

you are silver to me

needing heat

for your hardness

and truth

for guilt and shame

(wasn’t silver all i had

and didn’t i long for gold?)

i can’t save you or heal you

only take you deeper

into your troubles so

that which has ailed you

will make you whole

(only then will i

put my hands

my mouth

on all your wounds

and taste your pain)

no if i ever loved you

it was for all your suffering

if i ever wanted your love

it was because of your

beautiful injured heart

(look at you feet pierced through

and arms outstretched -

did you even try another path?)

oh your eyes promise me everything

plead with me for release and cry

tears latent with stars

so that i cannot bear to comfort you

lest i stem their flow

(we both know that behind you

in the shadows there are others

that thief and that wife-killer

you think are forgiven

but reveal all your lead)

don’t tell me you’re dying

i’ll have no choice

but to stand by and watch

as you bleed

wait for the beating and sighing end

and later cover you with my grief

(how could i worship less?

i understand you perfectly

but i will never wipe away

the gift of blood filled with

the seeds of so many flowers)

and you don’t die at all

you are here in the garden

facing me over and again

innocently

as if you had not sent me

into my own anguish

(all my wisdom unreceived

all my waiting

for this

i have nothing left)

is there ever an end to our story

when you keep rising

and i go on causing your fall?

this is where horizon and

heavens meet, always

(yes, you are silver to me

the heat i need

for my indifference

and the truth of

my own guilt and shame)

forgiveness

I am complete.

transition over|negredo to albedo|the dream-pelican|saved me|pulled me from the sea|pierced her own breast|fed me with her own blood|then became a dragon|and carried me to shore|

(which, it turned out, was never far away at all)

All the birds|hung in the air|silent and still|waiting|watching the miracle unfold.

I'm complete!

lachesis

I saw your name
just your name
and felt a bloom
of heat
right here
so I know
what my mind
has put aside
my body
remembers
and all week
while waiting
i've woven
loose threads
into a web
in which i
lie pretending
to be horrified
but secretly
in thrall
to the sting
and wonder
of who you are now
and an instinct
to unravel
our lives
and spin us
and time
into one
strand
then i hear
your voice
at last
telling me how
you died and
were retrieved
three times
how your
brokeness
changed you
and god
i can't
bear this
but I watch
our souls
stretch
behind us
to that place
we just know
our destinies
won't fit
until we do
so with fate
urging you
to admit
i was
a mystery
so strange
you couldn't
lean my way
except for
that one
time when
innocence
was lost
to us
i want to
climb into
that small space
you made for me
sit watching
your mouth
and weave
new memories
holding them
to me like
a child
we never had
safe
enough
to take
into my heart

cookies

oh
no,
biscuits
where I live
although I know that
those are scones in other places.

on sundays my name is....

...my name is... my name is..

I don't know anymore.

Who am I?

I renamed myself,
but its not enough,
I found the name
before I knew
what it meant.

Its not my name.

If I stand here
and look
at myself
in the mirror,
I see what you see,
but do I see me
as I really am?

Tell me,
and I'll look
through your eyes
and know
what my name really is.

Is it written somewhere?

If I stand here
in front of you
and say
you are tall,
and have dark hair
and a strong,
lean body;
you are funny
and sexy and cool
and I love you,
am I saying it to you,
or is it me I see?

Aren't you my perfect mirror?

What is my name?
What do you call me??




Oh - who cares anyway??

I'm not my name.

poetry thursday

Because we here in Australia are hours ahead of time (not really, but its nice to think of it that way) I posted my contribution to Poetry Thursday yesterday (on Thursday) and it is below...scroll down.. no further..yes thats it..

fibs

While, er, 'researching' just now I came accross the blog of Gregory K.Pincus - inventor of the Fib.

A Fib is a wee poem that follows the Fibonacci Sequence - that is 1/1/2/3/5/8 - the mathematical pattern that is found in nature (eg Nautilus Shells) and in Sacred Geometry is said to be all sorts of perfectly wonderful things... very mystical.

here is mine:

i
was
crap at
maths at school
however this is
really very interesting


I never thought I'd say this but I love Fibs...

by jove, a poem

I really love Thor's Days. Here's a poem I wrote a couple of years ago that always makes me feel good..

say it again!
say that my heart
beats
like it wants
to get out
of its cage
that you can feel
its secrets
through my skin
and that tonight
I'm wrapping paper
around you
so softly
these words
fall
like fruit
into my hands
angel
say them again!

copyright d sinclair 2007